In Conversations
by NorthernTrash-x
Summary: For X-Men First Class. Charles x Eric. Meanings hidden in conversations.


Charles x Erik, ish. For my Mel-chan

**In Conversations**

_Oh Starlight, don't you cry, we're gonna make it right this time tomorrow  
><em>_Oh Starlight, don't you cry, we're gonna find a place where we belong,  
><em>_Where we belong, so you know you'll never shine alone  
><em>Slash and Myles Kennedy

* * *

><p>"So your mutation means that you can control metal?"<p>

Erik had tried to hide his irritation when the psychic sat down opposite him, his face an innocent mass of enthusiasm. It was a little overwhelming. Erik cleared his throat, and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"That's so exciting, I haven't met anyone with any sort of talent like that."

A sigh.

"I'm sure you haven't."

The chilling tone did not deter him as Erik had intended, and he found that the psychic just leant in closer to him, fingers steepled. There was a simple eagerness about him that Erik found bemusing; it had been a while since he had spent this much time with someone with so few ulterior motives.

"For a great many years, you know, I studied mutations, at university and so on, wondering if there were more people like me and Raven in the world."

Erik cleared his throat, trying to express boredom without coming outright and saying it.

"And have you discovered many?"

"Some, until very recently none at all. But I'm sure that there are more! I can just feel it, you know?"

"No. But then, I'm not sure that I would care."

"You have to care, surely? They're like you, they're a part of you."

Erik raised an eyebrow, unsure of what the other was actually talking about.

"No, they're not."

And then Charles smiled at him, a warm, honeyed smile that lit up his face and made his eyes bright with hope.

"But they could be, Erik. If you let them."

* * *

><p>"Why won't you ever talk about your past, Erik?"<p>

Irritated by this line of conversation that had been coming more and more recently, Erik sped up his pace, hoping to leave his companion behind him.

"When you're older and wiser, Charles, you will learn that some people will only speak when they are ready to."

Charles grinned, knowing Erik's plan and stepping up his own pace to match him.

"And when will you be ready to?"

But Erik stopped, suddenly, almost causing Charles to trip as he hurried to stop himself. When he turned to look, Erik had his forearm in a tight grip, his skin white and his expression completely, and almost scarily, blank. Charles wondered for a moment if he had gone one step too far. There was a long, uncomfortable silence until Erik broke it, speaking softly, but with great force.

"When this tattoo rubs off my skin."

Charles was hushed when he replied, a little embarrassed but a little glad of this brief loss of self control- it was a glimpse he had never seen into Erik.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Because I would dearly love you to tell me about yourself."

He watched his companion relax, visibly loosening as he let go of his arm. Then, as if nothing had happened, his raised eyebrow and sardonic expression slid back into place.

"I'm sure you would, but it's not a story I can tell."

"Why were you chasing that man in the submarine?"

A flash of anger, just for a moment.

"Because I need to, Charles."

* * *

><p>"Erik, look at this!"<p>

For the first time since he was a child Erik couldn't help but feel sheer wonder at what was being projected into his mind by Charles as he stood, wired into this strange machine that Hank had made for him. The glimpses of the most amazing people, from all parts of the world, all ages, was incredible to see.

"I know… there are so many of them!"

"This is amazing! Hank, you're a genius!"

Hank smiled at the compliment, wondering if the two men knew that they had the exact same expressions on their face, or if they were standing as close together as they were.

"Charles, look! Look at her!"

"And him! We have to find them, Erik. We have to find them all!"

But this seemed to shake Erik, whose almost euphoric expression slid from his face a little at that. He looked at Charles, and sighed, as if a physical weight had settled down on them.

"And what will you do with these pets of yours, Charles?"

But the other was not to be deterred.

"We'll set up a place where they can be safe, where they won't have to hide."

"You're a dreamer, Charles."

But Erik was smiling again, almost as if he could believe it.

* * *

><p>"Erik, I believe in you."<p>

Erik looked at his companion with an expression of disbelief. Quite why Charles thought that it should be he that talked to these children that they had found was beyond him. Why did they even need a speech, anyway? They all knew why they were there.

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles. You cannot honestly expect me to do that."

But Charles was not to be convinced. He grinned at Erik, and patted his shoulders.

"But come on, it would mean more coming from you."

A sardonic eyebrow was raised in the direction of the psychic.

"That's a load of shit, you're the one that they believe in."

Charles shrugged, the smile still on the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe, but you're the one that they look up to."

"Same thing."

"You might think so, but I know differently."

"This isn't my responsibility."

But Charles cocked his head to the side, staring into his eyes with resolve. There was a deep warmth in there, something that, Erik thought, would not be denied.

"Does it matter? They're _ours_, Erik."

And as much as he tried to think of a response to that, he just couldn't.

* * *

><p>"Erik, can I ask you a question?"<p>

"That's funny, you never normally ask."

Charles chucked at this piece of wit, but Erik did not look up from the book that he was reading, even though he had a feeling that Charles was planning on drawing him into another long conversation. His partner sat down with a flop into an armchair opposite him, his fingers steepled and his chin resting on them in his usual pose of contemplation.

"Have you ever thought about friendship? I mean, really thought about it?"

Erik sighed, and snapped his book closed.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Have you ever thought about how important it is, to have?"

He put his head to one side, and sighed to himself. Sometimes he really didn't understand Charles, the way that he thought so deeply into such inconsequential things.

"I don't know. My life has not exactly been inundated with such relationships."

But now Charles had a sadder expression in his face, something in his eyes that seemed disappointed and empathetic at the same time.

"You have friends here, Erik."

He opened his book again to hide the emotions that he knew were in his eyes. It didn't occur to him that Charles could just have looked into his mind; he trusted that the other would not do so. There was a trust between them now, he thought, and respect.

"So you tell me."

* * *

><p>"Do you play chess, Erik?"<p>

Erik paused in the doorway as he passed, looking in on what appeared to be some sort of private study. He had not passed this door before whilst it was open, and was surprised to see an open fire, a warm atmosphere. Charles was sat in an armchair, staring at a photo on the wall.

"I do, though I haven't played in a while."

"Care to play with me?"

He remained in the doorway, still unsure whether or not he wanted to be drawn into this. He had a strange feeling that, if he stepped through this doorway, into the private world of Charles Xavier, that he would not be able to step back out of it, that he would not be able to leave this place with such ease.

"I'm sure Hank would be a better option if you wanted a challenge."

"I would prefer to have a game with you, Erik."

Charles turned, and the fire cast strange, warm shadows onto his face as he stared at the man in the doorway. Erik hesitated for only a moment longer.

"Very well."

The game commenced in silence. They had many moments of silence between them; at first uncomfortable, now, as time had passed a little, Erik was finding that it was becoming almost pleasant, to be silent by Charles' side, waiting for nothing, no expectations, almost… peaceful. He paused for a moment, a knight in his fingertips as he contemplated where to move it, feeling the smooth, expensive ivory against his skin. Soft and warm to touch, in a strange way, almost like skin.

"This is a beautiful place, Charles."

His companion looked up from his examination of the board, a little surprised at this unusual comment. There was a moment where he looked almost afraid of what Erik might say, before a small smile reached his eyes.

"Thank you."

"There were many places like this, in Germany, before the war. I do not think that they will have been restored to their former glory just yet."

"Do you ever want to go back there?"

He placed the knight down, decisively.

"No, never."

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Erik."<p>

He turned, surprised.

"What for?"

"For earlier today. For sharing that memory with me."

"You were the one who found it. You're amazing, did you know that?"

Charles flapped his hands, a little embarrassed at the praise. To be honest he was a little surprised- he had almost expected Erik to turn around and be angry at him for intruding as he did. This was far more than he had expected.

"It was beautiful. You have such a beautiful soul, Erik, if only you would believe it."

He smiled, a little. Charles was so naive sometimes.

"I think you're the only one who thinks so, Charles."

But now Charles was staring at him, with that heated stare that made him feel like his blood was boiling in his veins, that made him so confused and so aware of everything around them. Charles reached for him, seemed to be about to touch his face, but instead hesitated, and rested his hand on Erik's shoulder.

"Then I am the only one who sees the truth."

He couldn't help himself- he reached up, and rested his own hand on Charles', feeling the warmth of his skin.

"You think too highly of me, my friend."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"That is the first time that you have ever called me friend."

* * *

><p>"You're my dearest friend, Erik."<p>

Erik smiled from across the chess board, a true smile, the kind that was only used rarely but that Charles was beginning to see more and more as the time passed and they grew ever closer.

"So you say, Charles. But I still don't think you really trust me."

Charles raised an eyebrow, unable to stop himself smiling, happier than he had ever been for no apparent reason.

"Maybe not, but that's just because I know how ruthless you are when you're playing chess."

Erik smiled, but there was a little of the darkness in his eyes that Charles had come to know as a remnant of his past.

"I had a ruthless teacher."

"I can imagine."

Erik sighed, and looked around the luxurious room.

"No you can't."

* * *

><p>"Erik, do you ever wonder why we have been brought together?"<p>

He tutted under his breath. Charles was half asleep already, dozing in the warmth, his words a little slow from tiredness.

"You know I don't believe in fate, Charles."

"I know, I know."

Charles was silent, but Erik could see that the question was still in his mind. With a sigh he settled a little more comfortably, deciding to let the conversation carry on.

"But sometimes you wonder?"

Charles nodded, slowly.

"I do, yes."

"And what is your verdict?"

"I think that, if there is such a thing as fate or destiny, then it did a good job, you being in the water that night."

Erik shook his head, smiling to himself.

"The only thing you have to thank for finding me is your own stupidity for jumping in the water the way you did."

"It worked, didn't it?"

Charles rested his head on Erik's shoulder sleepily, without quite realising what he was doing. Erik thought for a moment about shrugging him off, but didn't, in the end. It felt nice; warm.

"I suppose it did."

* * *

><p>"I think we're making great progress, Erik."<p>

"I know you do Charles, but are we really doing the right thing here?"

Charles looked up at him, surprised. They were sitting side by side on one of the sofas in his study, the fire roaring, a tumbler of scotch in his hands and a warmth inside him, from the drink and from the proximity.

"What do you mean?"

Erik was staring at the ceiling, a strange expression on his face.

"Is it worth it? All this pandering to humans just to get them to accept us how we are?"

But Charles just took Erik's hand in his, and squeezed it a little until the other man looked at him. Then he smiled, and rested their foreheads together.

"If we can make a life for ourselves, I think so."

Erik closed his eyes, and wondered.

* * *

><p>"You'd have died if you had followed that submarine, Erik."<p>

He had his hands in Charles' hair, the warmth of his body pressed against him.

"What would it have mattered, Charles, if I had?"

Charles rested his nose in the crook of Erik's neck, taking in the softness of the skin and the slight musk of sweat.

"You wouldn't have found peace."

Erik smiled, a hand running now down his dearest friend's back.

"I will never find peace."

From the folds of the embrace, Charles whispered.

"You wouldn't have found us."

_I wouldn't have found you, you mean._

* * *

><p>"Do you think we could have a future here, Erik?"<p>

"I'd like us to."

* * *

><p>"You are not alone, Erik."<p>

"I know."


End file.
